


Adventure Trap

by ShippingsandDeamons



Category: Original Work
Genre: Babies!, I can't belive it's not tenticles, Male Lactation, Monster sex, Mpreg, Other, Slimes, dubious mental state, labor, monster on human sex, potential stohlcholm, semi-graphic depictions of the birthing process, strange biology, submissive guys, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-10-17 21:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17568521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingsandDeamons/pseuds/ShippingsandDeamons
Summary: A series of different multi-chapter stories taking place in a fantasy world setting.Read the tags to know what you're getting into.





	1. Slime trubbles pt 1

Regmont; the tall mountain the who’s shadow the people of Venia city made their homes in. As with any mountain, it was old and tall, and had a complex network of caves and tunnels running through its insides. Thought it was no volcano, Regmont did have veins of magma running through it deep within its bowels. Because of this, rare and pretty stones could be found deep within the mountain, gems that were excellent (once polished and cleaned) for the use in magic spells and the like. But the mountain was home to many diverse species of monsters, making it tricky to collect the precious gems, as such adventurers found good work in Venia, both in killing monsters and escorting miners to the veins of precious stones.

And that is how a certain someone found himself taking a literal path towards an unusual fate.

 

The tunnel was just tall enough for his sword to make full down strokes as he hacked through hoblet flesh. The monster let out a high shriek as its arm was severed, blood spraying the walls and ground in scarlet. Its companions were unfazed, charging at him despite how easily he’d de-armed their brethren. He huffed in amusement before darting forward, the tip of his sword points to pierce through flesh. He skewered two of them, then easily pulled his blade free to decapitate a third. The fourth was cut down equally as quickly.

Hoblets were small goblin-like monsters that were visibly smaller than a human child. Their ruff brownish grey hide gave them some camouflage in Regent’s many caves, but they were weak, even despite the fact they move in groups of at least 5. The only time hoblets were a threat was when an adventurer was up against swarms of them, but that was rare and instances were far between.

Wiping the blood from his sword, he sheathed the blade and placed it back against his right hip. Content with his handiwork, the young adventurer quickly scanned the bleeding bodies for anything of potential value. Finding nothing of worth, he shrugged and continued down the tunnel.

Adair was a newer adventure, he’d only arrived at Venia about a month ago. But he was good at what he did, and had a reputation for getting his jobs done quickly and efficiently; something anyone taking these sort of jobs wanted to be known for. Because he was still inexperienced, he hadn’t been given any of the really hard jobs; mostly he was just asked to take care of weaker grade monsters, but he was alright with that. It would be foolish to ask for harder jobs when he was still establishing trust with the adventures center. At the moment he was carrying out a tier 8 mission that requested him to clear out some of the tunnels in preparation for an expedition that was happening soon. He’d done missions like this several times, so he felt confident in his ability to remove a few hoblets and lesser ariacts. 

He’d traveled these tunnels hundred of times in the past, so he knew where he was going. Or so he thought.

Because of how deep within the earth the tunnel systems were, natural light rarely was available. The only reason he was able to see in front of him at all was thanks to the charm light he’d received from the center. It was a magic light that gave off a decent amount of illumination, enough for him to fight with in any case, and usually rested at the hollow of his throat to free up his hands. Thinking he was heading towards the surface, he was caught by surprise when his foot landed on a downward incline, causing him to lose his footing. Adair fell forward, tumbling down the steep incline before landing flat on his back with a groan. He mentally smacked himself as he heaved himself up to his feet. His right hip and thigh throbbed angerly at him. The fall and mashed his scabbard into that leg several times on the way down, but thankfully it felt like he was just bruised, badly bruised, but nothing more.

Hissing in pain, he almost missed the wet squelching sound off to his left. Snapping his head in the direction, he peered into the gloom, the sound hadn’t seemed all that far away, so whatever it was might be close by. Pulling free his sword, he was just in time to defend against a green blur charging at him. The thing crashed into him full force, sending him stumbling back, before darting back itself.

Blinking, he found himself face to ‘face’ with a slime. Its round body was about waist height for him, but it was much wider than it was tall, and undoubtedly the green slime was much larger in mass than he was. Cursing his luck, Adair raised his sword. Slimes were a pretty high tiered monster; its gelatinous body was practically impervious to physical weaponry, and certain types of magic were ineffective against them.

He knew no magic, and the only weapon on him was his sword. He was greatly outmatched by the slimy monster. Keeping his eyes honed in on it he started moving back step by step. His only hope was to try and flee from it and find a way out of the tunnel. Perhaps realizing what he was intending to do, the slime zipped to the side –that was another thing about them, they were fast – to cut him off. Tendrils shot out from the slime's body aimed right at him. Yelping in surprise, he ducked and rolled back, grunting as his leg protested.

His back was to a steep incline, and with the state he was in, it was unlikely he’d be able to run up it fast enough to escape his attacker. His only chose was to run in the other direction.

Leaping to his feet, Adair ran in the direction the slime had come from as best as his battered legs would le him. He didn’t like having his back to the green monster, but it was his only option for fleeing. He heard the telltale signs of the slime chasing after him. Why was this thing after him in the first place? He racked his brain for any information he had on the monster, but because he usually never went deep enough to encounter any, he only knew the basics about them. That was another thing, slimes usually lived deeper in the caves, closer to the magma veins. Why was this thing even here?

He didn’t have time to really question it before something wet ensnared his ankle, sending him tumbling forward. His sword broke from his hand and skidded forward out of reach. A second tendril wrapped itself around his other leg as a cold sweat broke out on his brow. He peered over his shoulder to see the green slime inching closer to him rather quickly. Scared, he attempted to kick his legs free and crawl away. Unfortunately, the grip on his legs was firm and didn’t give an inch.

More tendrils wrapped around his body; one on each arm and a fifth around his middle. A finale tendril was forced against his mouth and nose, cutting off his air supply. He didn’t resist as he was pulled against the slime, resisting would use up the air in his lungs faster. His chest burned in protest as the slime dragged him away deeper into the tunnel system, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Blackspots began dancing across his eyes, warning him that he wouldn’t last much longer without a new breath. Letting out a desperate whine, he allowed himself to try and free his face in one desperate attempt to break free.

It didn’t work.

Fear enveloped Adair’s mind as unconsciousness took hold. The last thing he did before blacking out was try and scream.


	2. Slime trubbles pt 2

Waking up was close to the last thing Adair had been expecting. The last thing he remembered was the slime dragging him off deeper into the tunnel network. Why it had captured him in the first place was puzzling enough, but why he was still alive only added more to the mystery. Just what in the hell was going on here.

Collecting his thoughts, a few things became apparent. First; he was unarmed- unsurprising. He’d lost his sword when the slime had caught him. Second; he wasn’t bound. His arms and legs were very free, though he was trapped in a small-ish space of sorts and the only opening was blocked by a large rock. Had the slime put it there? Third; he wasn’t as covered as he was before being captured. His chest plate and arm guards were nowhere to be found, leaving him in his shirt and pants, even his boots and socks had been removed. Again, was this the work of the slime?

He knew little about slimes, since he’d never ventured deep enough to encounter one in the past, leaving him with only the very basics. Still, not once had he heard about slimes having enough smarts to capture and strip a human. When people talked about slimes, it was usually about how fast or how invulnerable they were, never about intelligence. Maybe it was unknown just how smart these simple creatures really were.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the grinding sound of the rock being moved. In the pale light of his charm stone, he saw the light glint of an opake tendril of green. His heart skipped a beat. It seemed that it was indeed the slime who’d trapped him in here, and now it had come back for him. Pressing his back to the far wall, he watched as the round form of the slime came into view. Actually, was it even the same slime? He wasn’t sure.

He was powerless to stop it as the slime wrapped tendrils around his body again, lifting him off the ground. In situations like this, it was best to not resist the captor, right? Well, that was true when it was a human holding you prisoner, but slimes weren't human. Not wanting to risk it, he didn’t protest as the slime carried him off down a tunnel. Trembling, he watched as they emerged into a large cavern, an orange glow spilling up from a ravine in the ground several yards away. Two other slimes were waiting; another green one and a blue one. The second green slime was a different shade than the one carrying him, his captor was a grassier green color whereas the other slime was darker, closer to the color of pine needles. The third, blue, slime was a very pale color, the lightest of the three.

The slime carrying him wiggled over to the two, then set him down in between them. The second slime wrapped it’s own tendrils around his arms and legs, allowing the first to let go of him. The slimes made no move after that, none that he could see at least, so he was left sitting on the cool stone eyeing the two later ones wearily. The former slime was behind him, out of sight. A long, tense minute passed, then something cool came to rest on his shoulder.

Glancing down cautiously, he found a ‘hand’ resting on his shoulder. It was human in shape with long, feminine fingers and a Pettit palm, but it was green and slightly translucent, just like the slime. Twisting his head around, Adair came face to face with an unexpected sight. The slime who’d brought him here had transformed from a round blob into a pretty ‘lady’.

She, er, it was very aesthetically pleasing, with prominent yet delicate facial features, a large chest, and wide hips. The kind of looks and proportions men found very attractive, and he wasn’t an exception, but he also realized that such a body shade was rare for a woman, and usually exaggerated. And now here he was staring at a slime who’d mimicked just that.

Why?

He didn’t get a chance to question it as the slime smiled back at him sweetly before stepping around to face him directly. Hands caressed his face for a moment, then dropped down to take fistfuls of the fabric of his shirt. The slime tor through it easily, too easy for a human. But it wasn’t human. The tattered shirt hung off his shoulders, threatening to fall, as the slime’s hands moved lower and tore his pants and underclothes into rags. What was it doing? Perplexed, he watched in confusion as the slime in woman’s form pressed itself against him, one arm wrapping itself around him.

Then a hand traced a line up the inside of his thigh. In response, a shiver of pleasure ran up his spine. Panick flashed in his mind as it dawned on him what the slimes were intending to do. A whine escaped his throat as something slid between the cheeks of his ass. He tried to pull away, but all he was capable of doing was lean back and jerk his hips away. Both of which in the long run wasn’t going to change his fate.

More tendrils wrapped themselves around his body, pulling him down and pinning him to the ground.

“W-wait!” He cried.

Either the slimes didn’t understand him, or his protest fell on deaf ears. Either way, the continued on unaffected by his outburst. 

Tendrils began sucking and teasing at his body. He could feel them writhing around his neck, across his chest, nipping at the inside of his thighs even. Having never been intimate with another person before, he was still ignorant to the ways such touches could bring teasing pleasure to him. Ge gasped and squirmed in the slimes’ grip. Then something teased at his entrance. Looking over at the humanoid slime, he paled when he saw part of a tendril in the junction between its legs.

“Wait- what are-“

His voice failed him as the tendril wriggled, forcing its way inside of him. Because slimes were, well, slimes, there was no chafting of skin as it pushed inside of him. The tendril did have to dilate in size to accommodate the tightness of his virgin walls, prepping him slowly to keep the ring of muscle and skin from tearing. 

A lewd moan escaped him as the tendril began moving, starting out slow before moving on to a maddening pace. It wiggled and squirmed inside of him and it moved in and out, catching and raming into every little pleasurable spot it could find. The tendril’s around his body moved with equal frenzy, teasing and stimulating any other sensitive part of his body they could find. A ‘hand’ came to wrap itself around his cock, pumping and gliding across his sex, a new tendril slithered over to worm its wave into his gasping mouth.

It didn’t take long to work him up to the edge. He came with a sharp cry, mind blanking as pleasure dragged him over the edge. The slimes didn’t stop their relented minstrilations, fucking him through the orgasm and quickly into a second. After coming a third time, the humanoid slime inside of him tensed up, but its tendril maintained it’s brutal pace. Something warm flooded his insides as the tendril stopped moving. A tendril positioned itself at his entrance, when the one already inside of him pulled out, it took its place deep within his walls quick enough to not let any of the warmth dribble out. He whimpered a little at the sudden change.

He was dragged up and draped over the darker green slime, practically bent over it. His legs were pulled wider for better access as the tendril inside of him began moving. This one didn’t start out slow. Adair quickly found himself devolving into a writhing mess as he was constantly assaulted by pleasure, moans and gasps the only noises he was capable of making at this point. He wasn’t sure how many times he came when the second slime tensed, everything had run together in a myriad of pleasure at this point. The same pleasant warmth filled him as this slime… came (?) inside of him.

Still bent over the dark green slime, the tendril in his ass was replaced once more, likely with one from the final slime. He was tired, sweat dripping from his brow from the constant sex, but he still found the energy to writhe about and cry as the tendril began fucking him. At this point, he wasn't certain if there was cum to spill when he orgasmed, but it didn’t seem to matter, his mind was too far gone from pleasure to think about it.

Finally, the last slime shuddered and spilled its own warmth inside of him. His ass was lifted in the air as he was set onto the ground in a heap, too exhausted to do more than keep his eyes open. The lighter green slime as no longer in its humanoid shape. A tendril bricked against his forehead, hair soaked with sweat, in an affectionate manner. Other tendrils tranced soothing circled against his pelvis, telling him how good of a job he’d done, perhaps?

Eventually sleep claimed him, letting him slip into a dreamless world of black.


	3. Slime trubbles pt 3

Adair whimpered as a tendril teased at his entrance, never quite breaching the ring of flesh. He lay on his back on the cool stone ground as more tendrils teased his chest and thighs, leaving him wound up with no release. His aching cock lay haplessly on his stomach, deads of fluid dribbling from the head as he writhed about in painful pleasure.

Finally, the slime torturing him stopped it’s teasing. The tendril at his entrance rammed into him, slamming head-on into a pleasure spot. His back arched as stars danced across his vision.

“F-finally!” He croaked.

He cried out as the tendril began its relentless dace of slamming into his insides, hitting and jabbing every sweet spot it could find in him. The tendrils at his chest picked up the pace as well, the tips poking and prodding at his nipples as another tendril enveloped his cock. His head twisted from side to side as the slime fucked into him. A warm feeling pooled in his belly, letting him knew he was nearing his limit.

After an indistinguishable amount of time down, only God knew how long he'd been down in these depths, he knew escape was unlikely, and rescue an insane dream. He was no one of importance, and since he’d come alone, and thus had been captured alone, no one knew if he was still alive. It would be a waste of resources and manpower to send a rescue party for a lone adventurer of a low rank, especially when it was very likely he was dead.

He didn’t really think about escape. After spending so much time in the slimes’ care, he’d begun to care for the gelatinous creatures. They made sure he was well nourished and taken care for, and while sex happened very often, he could call it unpleasant any more. It was clear they wanted him alive and well (to some extent), so it wasn’t like his life was in danger. 

It was fine, right? 

Adair moaned as he came, not given a chance to rest as the tendrils continued to fuck him, as usual. On the cusp of a second orgasm, the tendril inside expanded as the slime prepared its own release. Scalding warmth flooded his insides before the tendril resumed its movements. He cried out as he came again, tears glazing his eyes. This wouldn’t stop, not until he was stuffed with the slime’s warm fluids, it was always like that. He lost himself to the pleasure, losing track of how many times he and his ‘partner’ has come.

When it was over, he was left panting and shivering. The tendril in his rear stayed there, a means of keeping the warm fluids inside of him for as long as possible. He whined as the tendrils at his chest and thighs withdrew, shuddering at the sensation. His body had been worked to hypersensitivity, the movements causing wisps of pleasure.

The coolness of the ground was pleasant against his heated, flushed skin. He was half tempted to roll over onto his side, but as long as the tendril remained inside of him, it was an unwise decision. Unless he wanted to stimulate his over-stimulated hole further. 

His eyes fluttered closed as he waited for sleep to come. Just as he was drifting off, the slime picked him up carefully.

 

Being cut off from society meant not having access to certain conveniences. Thankfully hot water wasn’t one of them. There were several waterways in the cave system, and thanks to the veins of magma almost present, there were a few underground springs of hot water. The slimes brought him here regularly to clean up, though they never ventured too close to the pools of water themselves. Understandable, water was their biggest weakness.

Though he didn’t have soap, Adair was still able to use the hot water to wash the grime and whatnot off of his skin and shirt. After cleaning the tattered garment as best he could without some form of soap, he left in on a warm rock to dry as he hopped in himself.

Starting with the arms, he rubbed as the skin vigorously until he was satisfied, h moved onto his legs and did the same thing. He continued on to rub at his scalp, finishing off the easiest part of his self-cleaning.

Next came cleaning ‘down there’. 

Sitting down on the edge of the pool he positioned his fingers at his tender entrance and began working. He hissed as his fingers breached himself, trying his best to hold his tongue as he slowly scooped the slimes’ fluids out of him. He didn’t consider it a good idea to leave the stuff in there for an extended period of time, and he’d just be pumped full of more of it later anyway. He whined as he carefully scraped his sensitive walls clean of any remaining fluids, then pulled out as quickly as possible.

Thighs trembling, he waited until his shallow panting passed before hopping back into the water. He started scrubbing at his chest, but then his knees almost gave out beneath him, a gasp escaping from his lips. Bracing himself on the pool’s edge, he poked and prodded as the area in question a bit. Intense sensations spiked as he pressed against the sensitive flesh, noises threatening to spill from his throat.

“What the…?” He mumbled.

His chest wasn't normally this sensitive. What changed? He wracked his mind for anything that might have caused this, but came up blank. Sighing, he hopped out of the pool to let himself dry. He’d keep tabs on that, see if anything more changed. It could just be nothing, and he was working himself up for no reason, but it couldn’t hurt to be 'cautious.

When his skin was relatively dry, he grabbed his shirt and pulled it on. It was still wearable, even if it had been torn open in the front and now hung off of him like a coat. The red slime was still waiting for him at the mouth of the cavern. He followed behind it as they made their way back to the primary cave. Food and water were likely waiting from him back there, and potentially more slimes.


	4. Slime Trubbles pt 4

The slimes normally fucked him whenever they could, bringing him to the depths of ecstasy again and again while stuffing him with their odd fluid. But recently, they had been leaving him alone in a scene. The only time they’d touch him so intimately is when he needed such a release. It was strange, how the monsters had gone from 100 to 0 in practically no time flat. And it lined up oh so perfectly with the growth of two specific areas of his body.

After noticing the newfound tenderness in his chest, other odd things started happening. It started out with odd cravings, minor changes in his eating habits where he’d want to eat more sweet or bitter things, which then became an increase in appetite. There were other changes too, like the shifts in his energy and mood; he found himself becoming tired and irritable more easily. But the more noticeable change had to be the swelling of his stomach and chest.

Right now his stomach just had a subtle curve at the moment, easy enough to miss if looking at him from the front. His chest was more noticeable; the flesh becoming soft and somewhat squishable as it expanded, much like the budding breasts of an adolescent girl whose body was starting to mature. Honestly, just going over everything in his head made it sound like he was becoming pregnant. And that was just ridiculous!

Right?

He was a man, such a thing was impossible for him. More so, if he had indeed become pregnant, that meant that the slimes had been the ones to impregnate him. The notion alone should be impossible- humans and slimes were two completely different creatures! And yet, the slimes had become enamored with his stomach lately, they had also become more protective of him as well; leaving two or three of their ranks with him at all times. Had they realized what he was denying; that he was carrying their young? If it was just him growing fat, why was it just his stomach and chest? His arms and other parts of his body should have become softer as well. More so, both parts of his body might be softish, but the skin was firm and didn’t sag like fat flesh normally did. There was also the tenderness in his chest.

Bitting into his lip, Adair shook his head to clear his thoughts. At this point, it was too early to tell. If he was indeed somehow pregnant with slimes, then he’d start showing more as time marched on. If it was something else entirely, then something would happen.

 

No matter how he shifted his body, sleep refused to come. His chest was unbearably tight and full feeling, nipples hard and perky. They ached every time the fabric of his shirt brushed against them. Whimpering, he rolled onto his back and brought his hands up to his aching chest. He massaged them in a hopeful attempt at relieving the aching feeling, but it didn't work.

He just wanted some sleep damn it! But he wasn’t going to be able to rest until his chest stopped hurting so much. Writhing on the ground, groping and pawing and the swollen flesh, Adair was about ready to cry when cool tendrils caressed his face. He peered through bleary eyes to see that a green slime had ventured over to see what was up with him.

He was lifted up and then draped over the slime from behind, back arching over the roundness of his ‘aid’. Tendrils gently pushed his hands aside to replace them at his tender bosom, each peak of flesh being wrapped up firmly. His hands dropped to (try and) grip the slime’s gelatinous body. His flesh was squeezed so tightly it felt like something was going to burst. His head dropped back, eyes squeezed tight, as breathy moans escaped his trembling lips.

Then something wet dripped down his chest. Opening an eye just a crack, he lifted his head up and saw some white fluid running down his ribs. He brought a hand up to collect a few drops of the mysterious fluid. It didn’t have a particularly strong odor, but when he popped the two wet fingers into his mouth, a creamy test graced his palate.

Realization hit him like a rock.

His hand dropped back down as he craned his head further up to see where the fluid was coming from. Sure enough, beads of his were bubbling up from his perked nipples. His body had been producing milk for his unborn young, but with no infants to care for, he’d had no relief. He really was pregnant.

Caught up in the shock, he didn’t notice when a tendril wormed it’s way past his thighs until the tip was teasing at his entrance. He gasped, then cried out as the tendril plunged headlong inside of him. It moved in a languid, almost lazy pace inside of him, brush and prodding at any and all sensitive spots inside of him. A tendril wrapped itself around his stiffening cock as another came to run gentle circles into his thigh.

He came with a sharp moan as the last of the milk had been wrung from his breast. The slime gently removed the tendril from inside of him before lovingly placing him back onto the cool ground. With his chest no longer so achingly full, and the pleasure of release easing his muscles, he drifted off to sleep. He’d clean up in the morning.


	5. Slime trubbles pt 5 (final)

Adair smiled as he caressed his pregnant belly. With how large and firm the flesh had become, he expected to be due any time now. Any fear or concerns about his situation had been pushed aside in favor of anticipation; he was an expecting parent who couldn’t wait to bring his child into this world. The slimes who had become a family to him seemed to share in his excitement, caressing his swollen stomach any chance they got.

Here, he was the safest he’d ever been, cared for by creatures who would sooner die before they let their expecting mate experience harm under their protection. 

Unlike with human children, he was unable to feel any kicking from his unborn brood. But he could definitely feel them moving beneath his skin. He couldn’t wait! And not just because he was excited. After becoming pregnant himself, he had a newfound respect for human mothers. Between the nausea and outright vomiting, the rapid changes in his mood, and what felt like a smaller bladder, he was ready for this to be over. That and he had no easy relief for the milk stored in his breast, more often than not he felt like a neglected milk cow. All in all, the charm had worn off and he was ready to be done with this.

 

He was in the middle of dozing off for a nap when a pain hit him like a runaway horse. It felt like someone had started squeezing his insides violently, trying to crush his stomach and intestines in their harsh grip. Gasping and hissing, he curled in on himself, willing the pain away. After what felt like an eternity, the pain ebbed away into a throbbing ache that left him winded. It was like being punched in the gut, just worse.

There was a tightness in his core, and not just from the pain.

One of the slimed scooted over to him, green tendrils gently poking his stomach. Gurgling in concern, he was helped to his feet. His knees were shaking and his legs felt like they were ready to give out at any time, but he managed to stay standing. Grunting in discovery, he walked around the cavern with the support of the slime, hoping to take his mind off of things. Like where the pain had come from. Just as he was beginning to feel better, the pain came again, just as bad as before. He cried out as the slime helped lower him to the floor.

One of the other slimes came bouncing over.

He was left struggling to breathe as his insides screamed at him. He gulped down air the moment the pain lessened, tears burning in his eyes. It continued on like that, the gut-churning pain coming in gradually shortening intervals as his stomach tensed more and more. He still wasn't sure why he was hurting, but it felt like the answer was on the tip of his tongue. All three slimes were coddling him at this point; hugging and caressing him when he was in pain, then helping walk him around the magma-lit cavern in between.

He found his answer when the time between the pain widdled down to about 10 minutes or so. The slimes had just gotten him up when something wet soaked his thighs. He’d blanched when his hand came away wet with some clear fluid.

He was in labor.

So it was finally time? It seemed that way at least. So this is what going into labor was like. He’d never seen the actual birthing process before, understandable, so he hadn’t known what to expect. If this is what his own mother had endured to have him, she and every other woman who’d birthed children before were practically saints. The pain was hellish and unbearable, and was lasting for far too long.

He was not looking forward to having more children.

Eventually, the time between contractions dwindled to the point it wasn’t worth getting up between them. He lay on his back, writhing around in pain until it was time to push. His hair clung to his sweat-drenched brow as he cried out, insides convulsing. After some screaming and some crying, he managed to push something out of his body, it landed on the floor quietly.

Cracking an eye open, a red blob was brought to his chest by one of the slimes. The thing rippled in his arms a moment before latching on to his milk-swollen breast right at the moment another round of contractions hit. After already birthing one slime, it was a bit easier to get the second one out. It was a sapphire blue in color, and like it’s sibling was brought to his chest to suckle. His stomach wasn’t so swollen anymore, but there was still a lump indicating he wasn’t done yet. He had one more child to bring into this world.

The infant slimes in his arms were taken just as his third set of contractions came. He whimpered in pain as he pushed and pushed until the third slime came free. The golden colored blob was brought to his chest to suckle the last of his milk before it’s siblings were returned to his arms.

He was exhausted, and there was a burning pain in his nether regions, but it was finally over. He cradled his three children close to his chest as the three adult slimes cleaned him up. Yawning, he leaned back and let his heavy eyes droop shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up; Harpies (maybe)


	6. Feather Frenzy pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next story.

This was probably one of the most annoying jobs assigned to him since joining the guard. He was a fairly experienced member, having worked as a Squier to a senior knight since he was 10, and just last year he proved his worth and became a fully fledged knight of Yordrig. And yet someone thought it would be best to send him to assist in guarding a caravan of goods over a treacherous mountain range. Between the hazardous slopes and narrow trails, the endeavor was slow going.

The mercenaries he was working with were a rough lot who didn’t seem to like him much. The sentiment wasn’t exactly shared, he respected their discipline and dedication to their work. But their attitude could have been better. When speaking to their captain at departure, he had been nothing but respectful to the man despite their differences, but that didn’t seem to matter to them.

Then there was the merchant to whom the good belonged, and his eldest daughter. The merchant was a good man, a bit meek at times, but he was a decent fellow just trying to make a living. His daughter, on the other hand, was an utter brat to a T. She complained near constantly about the slow travel and bumpy terrain, but when she wasn’t complaining, she was flirting. Her looks were fairly decent; fair skin and wavy dark hair that glinted lovely in the sunlight, dark blue eyes that twinkled when she smiled, and full, dark lips. But her attitude was unstable. A few of the mercenaries humored her, maybe to keep her pacified, or maybe they were indeed smitten with her. Whatever the reason, he let them do what they wished, as long as it meant she didn’t hound him, he couldn’t care less.

The sun was just beginning to reach its peak in the sky. They were traversing a rather dangerous mountain path. To the left was a rack wall, to their right a ravine they couldn’t see the bottom of Sometimes, the side of the path itself would crumble a bit as weight was applied. It was calm, and yet the oxen and horses fretted about nervously. The tranquility mixed with the animals’ nervousness put everyone on edge, except for the daughter.

He found himself looking skyward every so often, the muscles of his mount coiled beneath him. Something was about to happen – the animals could sense it, and animals had sharper intuitions for danger than humans did. The bitch daughter continued to complain as the men around her ignored the noise in favor of keeping a lookout for any signs of danger.

“Look out-“ One of the mercenaries shouted as the air was filled with a rumbling sound.

The ground shuddered and stones fell lose from above, raining down on them. Thankfully nothing too large fell, at the start. Behind them, a thunderous crash roared as larger boulders slid free. The animals panicked and began trying to race forward to escape danger. Shouts rose up to join in a cacophony of chaos. 

Cursing softly, he maintained a vice grip on the reins as others struggled to regain control of their steeds. Then he was shoved to the side by someone’s mount panicking and bolting forward. He hadn’t fallen yet, but was dangerously close to the edge. Before he could guide his mount back to safety, another steed bumped into him. His horse lost his footing, one hoof slipping down the side. A hand reached to grab him, but he was already being tugged down before help could arrive. The ravines darkness swallowed up knight and horse as the descended.

 

He woke to blinding pain and burning agony. The sky looked so far away. The dead didn’t feel pain, so that meant he was still alive. For now. It was no small miracle, but such wonder had been wasted on him. If the caravan didn’t presume him dead from that fall alone and did send some to find him, he’d likely die from his injuries by the time they found a way to get to him. His mouth tasted metallic from blood, like he’d shoved an ingot in and sucked on it like it was hard candy. 

A wet cough escaped his lips as his chest heaved. Gods he wished he hadn’t survived the fall. At least then he wouldn’t have to suffer the pain of bleeding out. Lost in his head, he missed the movement from above. Something clicked against the rocky ground.  
He couldn’t see clearly, everything was blurry and smudged from pain and potentially a head wound. Standing in front of him was a human-ish shaped figure. He could just barely make out what looked like powder red feathers (?) and pale skin. The figure began walking towards him, something clicking against the stones as they moved.

He wanted to say something, but the most he could manage was a shot groan. Something soft and warm brushed against his skin as the figure knelt down.

“…still alive… very… shine…” It was hard to make out was the voice was saying.

From what he was able to gather, they were as surprised to see him still breathing as he was. Something brushed against his leg, stoaking a fiery pain and electing a cry of pain from his battered body. The figure paused. A slender object was shoved into his mouth, prying his lips open so than something wet could be pressed against his tongue. It was squishy and kind of bitter, and was left in his mouth. At first, nothing happened. Then, after several beats of his racing heart, the pain started easing up and his eyes felt heavier.

“Sleep,” The voice murmured into his ear.

A warm, soft something eveloped him as whatever the figure had given him took effect, easing him off into a dreamless sleep.


	7. Feather Frenzy pt 2

The pain was still there when he opened his eyes for the second time after his fall, proving that he was still alive. Instead of being pinned between a rock wall and the corpse of his mount facing the sky, he was on his back looking up at the ceiling of a cave. His pain wasn’t the crippling inferno of agony it had been the first time around, but his entire body throbbed and burned in time with his heart. At first, he was confused as to how he got there, and why he was still alive. Then he remembered the blurry red figure.

They’d forced something into his mouth, a medicine of some kind going by its effects. It had dulled his pain and put him to sleep. From there they must have carried him to where ever ‘here’ was. Turn his head, he spotted the mouth of the have and a brilliant blue sky beyond its opening. It was higher up then from the place he’d fallen to. His savior had carried him up He’d have to thank them when they returned.

“Oh? Good, you're awake at last.” A warm voice said happily.

Angling his head down, he spotted a figure emerging from the shade deeper in the cave. His eyesight still wasn’t in total focus, giving every edge a softer look, but as they approached, he saw powder red feathers. Those brilliant red feathers were attached to a fair-skinned person with feathery looking scarlet hair bright amber eyes. Talons clicked against the rock floor with each step as the person fluffed up the feathers of their wings.

The person standing before him wasn’t a human, but a harpy. He did recall hearing from a fellow knight that a clan of harpies had made their home in this mountain, but this was his first time seeing one outside of a book. Her pale lips quirked into a smirk when she noticed his staring.

“Yep, definitely awake.” She said coolly.

The harpy approached him cautiously, like one would a wounded animal. It took the edge off his anxiety, but he remained as alert as his situation would allow. He didn’t protest as she dropped down at his side and lifted the warm furs off his chest. Make-shift bandages had been wrapped around his torso. She carefully used her talons to nudge bandaged up or to the side slightly to peek at his wounds. When she was satisfied with what she saw, the furs were placed back over his chest and the pelts covering his legs were removed.

He became acutely aware that he’d been stripped of his clothes, face flushed with embarrassment as he watched his supposed savior check the rest of his wounds. She was extremely cautious with his left leg, which had been completely encased in bandages. Long sticks had been tied on either side to the limb, keeping it straight. It had likely been broken from the fall. He remembered when she’d brushed against that lag by accident earlier, and the pain it had caused.

“Everything looks good, give it a month or so and you should be back on your feet.” She informed him chipperly.

He nodded. It didn’t appear that he was in any danger, but looks were deceiving. Tales of harpies depicted them as tricksters at best, cunning monsters at worst. How true those stories were was unknown, but it was better to air on the side of caution, especially since he was at her mercy for the time being.

“Sooo, I’m Palunta, what’s your name?” She said.

He blinked. Palunta had given her name so easily. Well, it was rude not to give his name in return. Besides, from the situation at hand, it was likely he’d be in her care for a while, he might as well tell her his name.

“Tibith,” He replied, voice coming out as a croak.

“Tibith,” she murmured, testing the word on her tongue. “It’s a nice name.”

 

The cave he was resting in, as he learned 3 days later, was where all wounded were sent to reside in until they were well enough to return to the main cave where the rest of the clan dwelled. Palunta was the main person in charge of said cave as their resident doctor. She’d found him while searching for herbs and other materials for her work, and had brought him back.

At the start, only she was the one allowed to visit him, to make sure his recovery went well. When his pain had leveled off and he was capable of staying awake for more than 10 minutes at a time, others were allowed in to see their ‘guest’. At the moment, a sapphire feathered harpy named Irita was helping Palunta change his dressing.

Harpies didn’t wear clothes, between all of them being female, and all of them having feathers that at least offered a form of decency, it was unnecessary. As such, only he found it embarrassing to be naked, as he’d lived among his fellow humans for the entirety of his life. As she helped change his chest wrappings, Irita’s eyes observed him, every inch of him.

“He’s healthy, and should make a fully recover despite the hight from which he fell, save for his leg.” She noted aloud.

Palunta had done a marvelous job of setting his leg straight, but it looked like his leg would be crippled for the rest of his life. Honestly, he wasn’t surprised by it. The red harpy had done as good a job as any human bone setter would, it was fortunate enough that he would be keeping the leg at all. But not every injury could heal back to the way it was.

He’d no longer be able to serve as a knight, but the guard likely thought he was dead. It wasn’t like he had anything to return to now.

“But a bad leg doesn’t change the fact he will make a good hatcher.”

He perked up a bit at that. He hadn’t been among the harpies long, and thus many of their terms he didn’t understand. What was a hatcher? Harpies. Despite their very human appearance, were more birds than man, and another harpy, Glava, had explained their body processes reflected such. 

“Maybe, when he’s fully recovered. Right now, he’s too weak to do more than rest.” Palunta chided her fellow harpy.

“I never said right now, even I can see he’s not ready yet.” Irita snapped.


	8. Feather Frenzy pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now we get to the porn

Sighing dejectedly as his hard work quite literally came undone, Tibith flopped onto his back. After almost 3 full weeks, he was just about fully recovered. Palunta and the silver feathered harpy Glava had transported him to the sleeping den, a large cave where all the members of the Ajaunta clan (the name of the harpy clan that had taken him in) slept. Because he was human, and thus unable to fly like his feathered companions, he couldn’t move around freely from den to den like the rest, meaning that unless someone came to move him, he was stuck in the sleeping den.

Now that he no longer slept most of the day, this limit in mobility created a problem; boredom. Beyond record keeping, the Ajaunta didn’t exactly have anything to read, and there was only so many times you could read the same scroll before it because tedious. So, in an effort to not go insane, he’d been presented materials to craft with. Having only ever worked with a sword before, it was an odd change of pace.

His latest attempt, creating flower chains, had not gone too well. His fingers were nimble and dexterous, yes, but the thick stems made them hard to manipulate. After hours of sitting on the stone floor, he did have a few such chains completed, but many of his attempts had still unraveled. He’d worked so hard to become a knight of the city guard, and it was frustrating to have that effort become wasted thanks to what was, in essence, a bit of bad luck. Oh, he could return to the city, but one look at him limping around with his now lame left leg, and work would be hard to come by.

Running a hand through his now lengthy honey brown hair, he tilted his back further when he heard the sound of talons clicking against stone. Palunta stalked towards him from the mouth of the sleeping den. Sitting back up, he waited for the red feathered harpy to get closer before grabbing one of his flower chains and presenting it to her. The healer blinked, then extended one of her wings out and let him drape the flower chain over a forewing.

“Thank you,” She murmured.

 

It was 5 weeks after his fall that Palunta declared him fully recovered. Most of his wounds had scared over, and those that hadn’t yet were closed and recovering nicely. At this point, he could go back to Yordrig if he so chose. Though, making a living there would be hard with his bad leg.

“So, will you return home?” Palunta asked off-handed.

Tibith thought about his choices. If he were to return to Yordrig, he would no longer be a knight of the city guard. Only healthy men could serve as knights, and with his now crippled leg, they would retire him the moment he returned. His only usable skills were those of a knight’s (and the meteoric artisan skills he’d acquired while recovering), but unless a mercenary core let him join their ranks, such skills were now effectively useless. Everyone would be hesitant to hire him as a worker because of his disability, any work he did manage to find would pay him very little.

Yordrig would be more hell than home now, but where else could he go?

“They would not exactly welcome me back, if I returned,” He replied. “But, unless your clan is willing to let me stay, I have no other choice.”

Though he couldn't see a reason for the harpies of Ajaunta to let him stay. Before his bad leg, he was already practically a cripple among the harpies, being unable to fly. Nore did he exactly have any kills he knew of that would be useful to their clan. In his mind, it was unlikely he would be allowed to stay.

“Is that so? Well, that does work in our favor then.” 

Before he could ask what she meant, in a flurry of crimson, Tibith found himself pinned with his back to one of the den’s walls. Just above him, Palunta loomed over him, amber eyes predatorial.

“Tell me Tibith, how much do you know about our kind?”

His mouth felt dry. Was this was a mouse felt in the talons of a hawk?

“That harpies, despite looking more human than bird, are more of the opposite. And that you are kind, though perhaps tricky, creatures who are not too different from us humans.”

“Hmm, well, let me expand on that,” She said coyly. “Harpies are only ever born female, unlike you humans, as such we need a male to produce chicks. Irita mentioned the term ‘Hatcher’, remember?”

Yes, he recalled the sapphire harpy saying that word. It was when she’d helped Palunta change his bandages 3 days after his fall. He still didn’t know what it meant, but now he might have a guess. He nodded.

“A hatcher it one who helps produce chicks; the male element needed.” The explanation was murmured into his ear. “At the moment, we don’t have a hatcher, then you quite literally fell into our lives.”

A shiver ran down the length of his spine as his legs were forced open, Palunta nestling into the newly opened space, her fathers tickling his thighs.

“You are very healthy, despite the fall, and a bad leg would not prevent you from doing your duty well. And as you said before, you wouldn’t exactly be welcomed back by the humans.”

His heart was hammering in his chest at this point. She was right, at this point, he didn’t exactly have a home to return to. It sounded like the Ajaunta were more than willing to accept him into the clan with open wings. He’d spent enough time here that he could see it becoming home. Besides, wasn't it human nature to want a place where you were needed and loved?

Sensing his answer, Palunta captured his lips with her own to ravish his mouth. Shoving his legs open wide, he gasped as she ground her hips against his own. Please hazed his mind as she rutted against him, his arms flew up, fingers scrambling for perches on her shoulders. She pried her mouth from to begin ravaging his neck. His toes curled ever time he felt her sharp teeth scrape across his sensitive flesh. He gasped in ragged breaths between the moans and cries her minstrilation elicited from him.

Her hips slid underneath him as she lifted him up, lips dancing across his collar. He cried out, nearly jumping, as something slid between the cleft of his rear. He whimpered as something teased his entrance, unfamiliar was sensation from down there, then all but screams as he was breached. Palunta slammed her hips up and his vision swam from pleasure. His back was pressed harder against the wall, cock trapped between their stomachs as she ground against him.

He was vaguely familiar with the concept of sex, but he’d started his training too young to be aware or interested in it, and his extensive training later in life had left him too busy and preoccupied to explore the pleasures of flesh.

Wath pooled in his belly, fueled by the delirious the please he felt from his partner’s odd sex thrusting inside of him. His pleased mewls turned into whimpers as her cock’s head scraped along a particular part of his inner walls. She could tell from the was he squeezed around her sex that the spot had brought him great pleasure. Shifting her hips, the crimson harpy zeroed in on that spot that brought her hatcher his greatest pleasure.

She, like most of the clan, hadn’t yet enjoyed the pleasures of breeding a hatcher yet. Only the eldest members of their clan were present to have done so. Tibith’s sounds of pleasure were like a drug, spurring her on to ram into him just to hear more. Strands of inferno coiled in her gut, she would be coming soon. By how stiff and dripping her partner’s own external sex had become, it wasn't long for him either.

She continued to focus on that pleasure spot. After a particularly harsh thrust, he came with a loud keen, hot liquid spilling against the planes of their stomachs. After a few shallow thrusts, she too came with a growl, her own fluids spilling inside of him. Panting and sweating from exertion, they collapsed onto the ground. He whimpered as her sex was pulled out of him.

He basked in the way she stared down at him, loving and adoring. Like he was something precious. Whether it was because of the bond formed over the last 5 weeks, or the fact he was now the clan’s hatcher, he didn’t care at the moment. Right now, it felt good to so longer worry about where to call home.


	9. Feather Frenzy pt 4

Choking back a particularly low moan, Bibith buried his head deeper into the furs and feathers beneath him. He was so close now, so very close to relief, and judging by how frantic Rhonanel’s thrusts had become, she was too. He unknowingly clenched tighter around her cock, eliciting a dark growl from the emerald feathered harpy as she slammed into him harder. After a long, indeterminate amount of time, she came with a hiss, hips grinding against his rear as she spilled scalding fluids deep inside of him. He came with a soft mewl shortly thereafter. 

Rhonanel pulled out of him with a contented sigh, nuzzling the back of his neck sweetly. Tired, he only managed to muster a small hum in response. His rear and hips ached in that odd after sex way that left his limbs loose and uncoordinated, and made him want to sleep for an hour. But the cooling cum on his skin was beginning to dry and itch. 

Reaching over, he clumsily grabbed a scrap of soft hide and flopped onto his side to clean his stomach. After he was done, he rolled back onto his stomach with a tired grunt and reached around to begin cleaning his sore buttocks and entrance. He shuddered as the soft hide scraped along he spent ring of muscle that lined his entrance.

Once clean, he tossed the hide scrap aside and slumped further into what constituted as his bed. As a hatcher, it was his role to be fucked silly by the harpies of the Ajaunta clan. A role he’d been fulfilling for the last month and a half now. It was still so odd to have gone from a budding knight of Yordrig’s city guard to the more maternal role of helping demi-human monsters produce offspring. But he would adapt, he was happy among the Ajaunta, and he couldn’t return to Yordrig. Not with his crippled left leg.

He was still unsure of his exact role in the spawning process, but so far no one had said any ill about how he was doing at the moment. Even the elder 5 of the clan, that last ones to have mated and conceived children with the last hatcher, had graced him with nothing but praise. Well, at least he was aware he was doing good.

Tired, he closed his heavy eyes and drifted off into slumber.

 

Crying out in ecstasy, Tibith’s hands were clasped together as if grieving prayer, his arms resting on Palunta’s shoulders. He was overwhelmed by the feeling of both her and Glava’s cocks both thrusting against his sensitive inner walls. His entrance was stretched out to accommodate both members as they slid up and down. Tears pricked in his eyes and Glava’s teeth scraped along his shoulder and neck, Palunta lapping at his chest with her tongue.

His own cock was painfully erect and dripping as it bounced against his right thigh, but he wasn’t sure he’d be coming any time soon. They’d only just started, but he was already so close to the edge. 

“Mmm, what a good hatcher you are, taking in both our cocks like this so wonderfully~ How tight and warm you are, I can’t wait to fill your inner sex up with my seed.” Glava crooned in his eye, filthy words stoaking the fire in his gut.

“So true,” Palunta purred against his chest, teeth teasing a nipple. “We’ll breed you well and good, dear hatcher.”

Gulping down a breath of air, he cried out when one of the cocks nestled deep inside thrust into that particular spot of his the always drowned him in pleasure. He didn’t have the stamina for this, not after Irita and made him come twice early that morning. He mewled out when Glava’s mouth found a particularly sensitive part of his neck.

He came quietly, seed slipping across his and Palunta’s thighs as his head lawled back against Glava. Not long after, his partner released with twin growls. Pausing for a moment to catch their breath, Palunat pulled out first. The powder red harpy stood up to stretch as Glava pulled out and settled him on his bed of furs and feathers. She gave his cheek a comforting brush with some of her moonlight colored feathers, a harpy version of caressing a lover’s face with one’s hand.

Breathing heavy, he placed a hand on his stomach. The normally flat plane of flesh was curved slightly beneath his palm. His brows knotted together slightly in confusion, it was a subtle rase of skin that was near impossible to see, and almost missable to the touch, but it was there. Believing it to be his body accommodating both Palunta and Glava’s fluids, he pressed down on the bump. The notion was disproven when their seeds didn’t trickle out of his entrance. Maybe it was fat. He wasn’t exercising as dutifully as he once did as a knight, and while he was ‘exersizing’ regularly, it was a possibility.

 

His skin prickled into goose flesh as the cold stream water pelted his skin. His fingers scratched at his scalp as he rubbed in a plant mixture into his hair. The fine brown locks had grown down to the top of his shoulders; the longest it had ever been. The new length required more effort to maintain, but he had the time now. Tipping his head back, he let the water rinse the soap from his hair. When he couldn’t see any more suds running down, he grabbed a bar of soap and began scrubbing his skin. Arms, legs, he had to twist his arms around awkwardly to get to his back, care was taken as he pushed soapy fingers past the rim of his entrance to clean his inner walls.

Finally, his cleansing took him to his stomach. After several weeks, the slight rase of flesh had become a roundness just bearly noticeable to the eye. He hadn’t mentioned it to Palunta yes, as he was uncertain if it was just him gaining weight or not. So far, he hadn’t felt any different. A bit hungrier maybe, but nothing truly worrying. Until he saw something truly concerning, he’d just keep an eye on things. That was his resolve at the moment.

“Almost done?”

He looked up to meet eyes with Kastera, one of the eldest members of the Ajaunta clan. Her muted brown feathers and hair were speckled with dots and small streaks of gray peppered from age. Her blue eyes were hard and sharp as the steel of a sword, but she was a good woman. 

“Yes, just let me dry off.” He replied.

Returning the soaps to their proper place for the next person who came by to wash up, he turned to make his way over to the sunning rock to dry off. He paused as he felt Kasera’s eyes shift over his body. It was in a way the hinted at desire or want, but more curiosity. Her eyes landed on his stomach and he saw those blue orbs twitch slightly. 

He said nothing as she stalked over to him, the tips of her talons clicking against the rocky ground. Up close, her eyes scanned his stomach, feathers even brushing against the soft flesh. Her lips quirked into a smirked as she realized something, a chuckle even escaping her lips. Did she realize something he didn’t, or did she just find it amusing to see him no longer look the part of a virtuous knight of Yordrig?

“So, it’s finally happened. I was wondering when we’d start expecting a new member.” She said wistfully. “Lirieta’s no longer going to be the youngest.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, the meaning behind the elder harpy’s words lost to him.

Seeing his confusion made her crack a smile.

“Oh? You hadn’t noticed it yet? You with chick.” She answered.

What?

“Excuse me?”


	10. Feather Frenzy pt 5 (final)

He’d learned the babies came from mothers almost a year before he started his squireship. He was helping his mother hanging the day’s laundry out to dry as the summer sun beat down on them. A woman with a child in hand, another in arm, and a very large stomach walked by their house. He was an only child then, and would be the only child his parents ever had. Before his ‘death’, he hadn’t heard any news of a second child. The woman was very young, practically an older girl, and her eyes were down. People who passed her by would giver her a piteous look, a few even scoffed at her back.

When his mother caught sight of her, she shook her head in dismay. He’d later learned, overhearing his parents talking, that she was a problem child. Always flirting with other boys and running around after dark in less than decent clothing. The reclass behavior always landed her pregnant after a while, but that didn’t seem to stop her. As far as he was aware, she never married. She was the local whoror who then grew up to be another prostitute, or so he heard.

When he’d asked his mother about why her stomach had been so large, she’d explained that the girl had been with child. She then went on to explain that when a boy and a girl weren’t carful with their actions, a girl could end up pregnant with child. Rubbing his own pregnant stomach, he recalled her veiled warning. 

He was no child rebelling against parental authority, and his relationship with the harpies of the Ajaunta was more than fleeting temptation. It had been over a decade that Josa, the last hatcher, died from an illness. It had been even longer than that since a child was birthed to the clan. He was barely 4 months along, and was told that the pregnancy would last as long as a humans normally did. Meaning he still had 5 months to go. Every so often the chick(baby) would kick or squirm inside his belly, creating ripples of odd sensations through his insides. The first time it had happened, he’d jumped thinking it to be a blow to his abdomen.

Glava’s purring pulled him out of his thinking as she rubbed her face against his shoulders like a cat. After his pregnancy had been confirmed, members of the clan had taken to staying behind. It was a ‘wive’s’ tale among them that hatchers showered in none sexual physical affection had easier births and healthy chicks. It was certainly one of the sanest superstitions he’d heard, and least likely to backfire. Glava was the one for the day who’d taken to cuddling him. At the very least, his mind would be sane and sound, and that in turn would affect his physical health.

 

Bent over the side of the cliff, fingers pressed into the stone edge, Tibith was more than ready to be done with this. Bile burned his throat and tough as he vomited over the edge. Irita soothed him with a wing as he rode out the tail end of the sickness spell. Bounts of nausea in the morning were common, annoying, but common. It was rare for him to vomit like this from them, but the nausea alone was annoying. 

When he was certain his stomach wasn’t going to regurgitate anything more, he pushed away from the edge with shaking arms as he waited for his stomach to settle. The sapphire harpy cuddled him close as he waited in hellish agony for the nausea to dissipate and his stoamach to calm. The flat expanse of her chest was cool against the heat of his back.

Because harpies didn’t nurse their young like humans did, their chests remained flat as a man’s the entire time. His own chest had swelled and expanded, looking more like a pair of budding breasts. He was told to expect them to get larger and his dark nipples to get firm by the time his child was born. It was his body preparing to produce milk for his young when they were born. He was already producing small amounts of the creamy substance, and would produce more as his due date drew closer. These budding ‘breasts’ were quite sensitive, especially in and around the nipples, and when they were full, the sensations became maddening. Every few days someone had to suck the fluids from them to relieve him of the pressure, but because of their hypersensitivity, usually had him coming in the process.

He sighed in content as she nuzzled the back of his neck with the tip of her nose. Because hatchers were a communal thing, as evident by the fact every member had at one point or another bedded him at least once, the exact harpy that had sired his child was unknown, but the duty of helping raise hatchlings was shared among the clan, so it didn’t matter. In a few short months this ordeal would be done with until he conceived the next child.

He had some anxieties over the situations, doubts that still lingered. Would he be a good mother to the life growing inside of him? His bad leg would make it hard to keep up with a child once they became mobile. He knew very little about even raising a child period, though there were 5 members of the clan who’d reared children, and several others who’d helped rear children as elder siblings. He’d left home at a very young age, practically still a child then, and as both a squire and a knight, hadn’t interacted with children very often.

 

The pain in his lower body had finally burned out into a dull ache. Tired, he smiled down at the small bundle of hair and infant downy in his arms as they suckled at his breast. Palunta examined the newborn with her eyes from over his shoulder. Oboria, their newest addition to the clan, had only just stopped wailing her little lungs out to feast upon her first meal.

Cinthetia had rushed to retrieve the crimson harpy the moment he’d first felt the stapping pain of contractions. His water had broken by the time they’d returned to the sleeping den, him half delirious with pain as he lay curled up on the ground. Most of the birth was hazy at best, a by-product of being overwhelmed by pain as his body worked to expel the child from him. He remembered a few of the encouragement Cintheta had whispered as Palunta focused her efforts into helping him endure the birthing process.

The worst of the pain had come when Oboria had been forced from his womb and out into Palunta’s waiting wings. The pain had tapered off after that, though the contractions didn’t finish until the placenta had been fully expelled from his body. The newly born hatchling had started crying as soon as her mouth was clear, screaming and crying with an intensity only infants were capable of.

“I take it that the chick has been born.”

Standing in the mouth of the den was Kithra, the eldest of the Ajaunta. Her flaxen yellow feathers tipped in gold from the sunlight coming in from behind her.

“Yes, elder Kithra, her name is Oboria, and she is strong and healthy.” Palunta reported.

The elder woman nodded, content, then shifted her brown gaze to him.

“Both mother and daughter are alive and well.” She commented. “It seems you have gifted us a fine addition to the clan, hatcher Tibith, I look forward to the strong blood you continue to produce for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not sure what comes next, suggestions welcomed.


End file.
